


City of Angels

by DisneyGeekWriter



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Chicago, F/M, Guardian Angels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:08:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8003146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisneyGeekWriter/pseuds/DisneyGeekWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For ages Anna, a soul guardian, has been the protector of a single soul. While most angels have more than one charge at a time, Anna devotes her life to this one soul. She has seen him through the ages. Kristoff, the mortal being in possession of this soul, has begun to notice her presence in his life. Will Anna commit the ultimate fall from the heavens to be with the man who's soul she loves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

City of Angels

Characters

Anna: An immortal angel, a guardian of souls, she has been the keeper of Kristoff's soul for eons

Kristoff Abraham Bjorgman: Paramedic in Charge for Firehouse 18 in Chicago, a single father to daughter Betsey

Betsey Abigail "Itty Bitty" Bjorgman: Kristoff's five year old daughter

Sven Michael Larson: Kristoff's partner

Mark Stevens-Larson: Sven's husband

Bulda Simmons: Kristoff's live-in housekeeper and nanny

Chief Will Oaken: The chief of Firehouse 18

Morgan Bjorgman: Kristoff's ex wife, left when Betsey was barely a year old, couldn't handle being a firemen/EMT's wife

Ollie, Kev, Howie, Jimmy, Jones, Pete, Julie and Gallagher: Firemen of Firehouse 18

 

 

~ Prologue ~

The veil of the seen and the unseen is very thin at times of great turmoil. Soldiers swear they can see magnificent, majestic beings charging forward with them on the battlefield. The infirm feel their presence. Doctors defy them, fight against the pull of death. Mothers feeling the comforting hand of peace as they hold their dying child in her arms. And at times a lone fireman taking a knee beside their truck saying a private prayer of thanks to their guardian for getting him and his friends out safely. 

On the other side of the veil, the guardians standing tall and stoic. Angels weren’t supposed to feel pride, jealousy, anger, fear, betrayal. The emotions of those souls they guard and protect cannot penetrate them. The are above the petty world they have been charged with protecting. One such angel possess a rare and strange gift in the world. Her heart is full of love. Compassion for the humans. Love for the soul she has been guarding since the beginning of time and space.

A love that was forbidden…

A love that burned for ages denied but no longer…

 


	2. A Lifetime With You

_Chapter One: A Lifetime with You_

It was a bad scene. An entire block was close to going up in flames if they didn’t hurry. Kristoff “Kris” Bjorgman, Paramedic in Charge, and his partner Sven Larson, surveyed the damage quickly assessing the needs. Shouldering their kits, the two EMTs ran towards the first downed person they came upon. An elderly woman, holding a kitchen rag to her forehead, clutching her other arm to her chest. Kris directed the woman to a curb where they worked on her injuries. 

“Ma’am, my name is Kris,” the large blonde man said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Marjorie. Marjorie Adams,” the elderly woman coughed out. Behind them the chaos continued. Men and women of Chicago’s finest ran about directing traffic, triaging residents, manning hoses. 

“Mrs. Adams, we’re going to take good care of you,” he said, listening to the woman’s lungs. “I’m going to give you a shot of meds to help you breathe, okay?”

A girl to man’s eyes, barely twenty, knelt between the elderly woman and the paramedic. She was dressed in a long, flowing skirt of blue and pinks. Impressive wings shielded them from the dangers behind them. The girl took the old woman’s hands in hers. Her very presence is calming to the elderly woman.

“Do you see her?” the old woman asked, her voice craggy and fearful.

“See who Mrs. Adams?” Kris asked, starting an IV in her arm. 

“That girl with the curly red hair.”

“Mrs. Adams, there’s no one there.”

But there was. On every call, every emergency she was there. Right beside him, holding back the demons of death and despair from taking the hero. She was his guardian angel. She was the sole guardian of the blonde man’s soul. She had seen it through so many things. And now in this life, while she tried to guard him from heartbreak, she never could. 

“Mrs. Adams, did you hit your head?” he asked, checking her eyes for signs of distress. 

“He’s here to help you,” the girl said. “You have nothing to fear.”

Kris and Sven lifted her stretcher up and carefully wheeled the elderly woman away from carnage of the fire and into the relative safety of the ambulance. The girl stood surveying the damage before flapping her magnificent wings and joining her order in the heavens. Once her charge was safe she was able to return to the heavens. She knew it wouldn’t be long until she would have to protect him from himself.

“Your devotion to that soul is concerning, Anna,” said Elsa, a member of her order. “Some have begun to talk.”

“His soul has been under my protection for ages,” Anna answered. “Pardon for taking such diligent care of the soul.”

“It’s not the care that has them worried, my child. You are having emotions about him.”

“I care about his well being. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I allowed something to take him before his time,” Anna said. 

“His time is short.”

Compared to the immortal and infinite lives of the guardians, the mortals’ lives were short. In a blink of an eye, the mortal’s life was done and their soul would return to the heavens to be received into a new host. If the soul led a good and kind life it was rewarded. And the opposite if the soul led a life lesser. With Anna’s guidance and devotion, the soul she loved always came back as a man of good character. 

“I know but I will care for him regardless of his time.”

“I know you will.”

* * *

It had been a long 48 hour tour. Seven structure fires, eighteen freeway accidents, twelve stuck elevators and a myriad of medical emergencies that kept him and Sven busy. Kris was happy to be going home. He had a modest house in Beverly, not far from his station. He tucked his three medals, St. Christopher for his travels, St. Florian for firefighters and St. Jude for impossible causes, under his T-shirt. Hanging from a string on the rearview mirror was a keychain photo of his pride and joy, the only thing on his mind that kept him from doing stupidly heroic things while on shift. His baby girl, his daughter Betsey Abigail, or Itty Bitty as the old guys in the house called her.

Traffic was a bitch and he grumbled and cursed the other drivers for making it impossible to get home to his little girl. Betsey was his pride and joy. He remembered fondly the night she was born. Poor kid chose to make her arrival in the dead of the worst Chicago winter imaginable. 

_The frozen February winds off Lake Michigan were pounding the city with snow, sleet and ice. He was on furlough as his child was due any day. His ex-wife Morgan’s car’s engine decided to seize on the side of the freeway while Morgan was in active labor. Kris cursed himself for not taking Morgan to the hospital in his truck. He called for an ambulance to come get them but the roads were piling with snow faster than the Chicago plows could get to them and there was no way Sven and his replacement would be able to get to them in time. Putting in a call to his buddy Dr. Kendall at Chicago Med to talk him through delivering his child._

_As the snow was swirling around them, Anna’s wings shielded them from the wind, her sweet voice singing in the wind, giving the nervous Kristoff a peace that he had never felt before. Morgan was crying and terrified. Nothing Anna could do would calm her down._

_“God, send me someone,” Kris whispered into the wind. “I can’t do this alone.”_

_“You’re never alone,” Anna whispered into his ear. “I am here. I am always here.”_

_She breathed into the car creating a pocket of warmth as Morgan cried out and pushed one last time. Wrapping his infant daughter in his CFD jacket, using his own shoelaces to clamp her cord, he was prepared to run the rest of the way to Chicago Med. He could see the flashing red and blue lights coming their way but the blowing snow was making visibility less than a foot in front of them. The ambulance tried to slow but the mixing snow and ice were working against them and they began to slide._

_Jumping into action Anna stood in front of the car, holding her hand out to steady the skidding ambulance. The ambulance stopped just inches from Kris and his infant daughter. The EMTs got to work loading up Morgan but nobody, not even Sven, could get Kris to let go of his baby girl._

_“Thank you,” Kris breathed into the nothingness. “You saved us.”_

_“There is never a need,” Anna said, wanting so much to kiss his cheek._

* * *

He pulled into the driveway of his small home. Playing in her fenced in yard with her white stuffed rabbit wearing a waistcoat, monocle, and pocket watch was Betsey. Mrs. Bulda Simmons, his live-in housekeeper was on the front steps knitting while Betsey had another unbirthday party. Silently he reminded himself to throttle Sven and Mark for getting his child  _Alice in Wonderland_  for her last birthday. Now everything was Alice this and Alice that. Thank God Mrs. Simmons could sew or Betsey would be wearing the same cheaply made Alice costume from the Disney store day in and day out. 

She looked up from her tea table and saw his truck in the driveway and lit up like a firecracker. She ran to the gate, still not tall enough to reach the latch on the other side. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Nanny Bulda, look Daddy’s home!” Betsey exclaimed. 

“Betsey, what are you up to?”

“Tea party for Bunny’s unbirthday,” Betsey said, wrapping her arms around his thighs. “We saved you some cookies.”

“Let Daddy put his gear away and start laundry then we’ll play, Itty Bitty.”

“I’ve got it,” Mrs. Simmons said.

“Thanks Bulda,” Kristoff said. 

Playing from the small CD player was the soundtrack to  _Alice in Wonderland_. Betsey was singing along to one of the many songs that Kristoff couldn’t decipher. There was no way he was going to fit at his little girl’s tea table so he sat on the grass, sipping from the tiny cups.

When Morgan left him and Betsey, the whole firehouse rallied behind Kris. Jones and his wife Dolores gifted Kris with all the things their girls had outgrown. Between the other firehouse wives and mothers, Betsey never had a shortage of sitters. In the bunk room they had a bassinet set up when she was still so very little she didn’t have to be away from her daddy for too long. She took her first steps on the apparatus floor, cut her teeth on Chief Oaken’s thumb, and was the first person to get old man Gallagher to crack a smile in years. 

It broke Anna’s heart when Morgan walked out on him in the middle of the night, leaving the infant Betsey in a basket at the fire station. She had encouraged Kris to pursue her because she thought Morgan could make Kris happy. All Anna wanted for the lover of her own soul was to be happy and content in his life. This life had seen the should taken from loving parents. Pushed into homes that even she could barely protect him from. Now to have the mother of his child walk away, was more than Anna could bear. She cried for the first time that day. She felt his sadness, his despair. She wrapped him in her wings knowing she would never be able to protect him from everything. 

Angels were taught to remain above emotion and petty behavior. But as Anna witnessed, the angels were far from the perfect beings they were created to be. She’d seen the falls of those who could no longer serve. She saw the turmoil when they had to turn their backs on the souls they protected because they were taking a path the angels could not follow. 

There were rules, things she couldn’t protect him from. She couldn’t stop death, only delay it for a short time. She could bring healing through physicians and medicine. She could carve a path for him to take but she couldn’t make him take the road. She was there to offer guidance but he did not have to take it. 

“You got a call from an attorney today,” Mrs. Simmons said, once Betsey was down for the night. 

“What does Morgan want now?” Kris muttered. 

“Something about mediation and visitation.”

“Over my dead body,” Kris said. “She left when Betsey was not even six months old. She gets nothing.”

“He left his name and number and I told him you’d get back to him when you’re on your off time.”

“Leave it on my desk. I’ll get to eventually.”

Bone tired and weary Kris trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. Collapsing into a sleep, he dreamt of a red haired girl he’d never really seen but was haunted by. A girl in dark pink and blue dress who carried doves in her hands.


	3. Just Call Me Spider-Man

Chapter 2: Just Call Me Spiderman 

Kris sat outside the conference room at his lawyer’s office waiting for Morgan and her counsel to arrive for their mediation. Armed with his letters from Chief Oaken, the chief of the paramedics, anyone who would give him a good reference to make sure his case was well made. He brought in his schedule and the coverage he had with Betsey. He could count on one hand the amount of times that Morgan has seen Betsey since she disappeared. This was sure to be a short meeting. He was sure that his temper was liable to get the better of him. It would take all his calm and peace to keep from doing or saying something he would regret. 

Anna stood behind him, watching the door for the girl she thought would make Kris happy. While she couldn’t sway opinion on the case at hand, she could guard Kris from himself. Too often she’s had to do just that. That seemed to be her daily task, saving the big man from himself. He acted first and thought second. He was fiercely protective of those who can’t protect themselves. When he was seventeen, he was the oldest in a foster home where the parents weren’t the best. They had put a lock on the fridge and pantry, only allowing the barest of food to pass to the kids in the house. He was arrested for shoplifting to feed the younger children in the home. While he could manage on his own, he couldn’t allow the others to starve. 

Kris was a selfless soul. It was one of the things Anna found so fascinating about him. Too often Kris thought of himself last. It just wasn’t in his nature to be selfish, and he barely had a sense of self-preservation. He would do for others regardless of the threat or loss to his own life or career. That’s why he had a guardian angel. To save him from himself. 

Anna had seen his soul through so many dangers throughout the years. Wars, famine, plague but, this life was different. She didn’t know if it was the time, the new dangers, or how his steadfast selflessness sparkled like a rare gem in a field of stones. She had always been fascinated by him, but now? Dare she say it? She loved that about him? She loved him?

When had she fallen in love with this version of him? She couldn’t remember. It could have been when he was a small boy cradled in her arms when his parents had been taken from him. It could have been when he saved a child from a skidding car when he was just a lanky teenager. But really, no matter when it happened, Anna loved him and would continue to love him far beyond the stars, the moons and galaxies the Creator put in the universe.

She had a duty to protect him and nothing, not even these forbidden feelings in her eternal heart, would prevent her from guarding his precious soul. Even at the betrayal of her own. 

She resisted the urge to trip Morgan when she passed Anna. Too often she would do that to someone, to them it seemed as if they tripped over air. But she held back and focused on Kris. His temper was something she fought and he needed to keep his head. There was too much at stake for him. Betsey. Betsey. Betsey. She whispered the little girl’s name over and over into his ear, reminding him of who was the most important. Betsey. Betsey. 

“September 19th, the case of Kristoff Anthony Bjorgman v. Morgan Claire Pettigrew,” Kris’s lawyer, Sven’s husband Marco, said into a camera set up to record everything. “For Mr. Bjorgman, Marco Larson-Cortone.” Marco’s thick Italian accent taking charge of the room. 

“For Ms. Pettigrew, Ted Sinatra,” Morgan’s lawyer said. Kris could have sworn that Morgan’s pathetic lawyer was the real life version of Ted from Scrubs. 

“We’re here to discuss custody and visitation for the minor child Betsey Abigail Bjorgman, age five,” Marco said. 

“My client wants three overnights a week and one weekend a month,” Mr. Sinatra said, starting with their ultimate goal. 

“May I point out that your client hasn’t seen or contacted Betsey in three years,” Marco said. “I have here dates and times when visitations were broken. Birthdays missed. We counter with a trial period of three months, supervised visitation in the child’s home or other neutral location.”

“Three months?! Kris, come on, this is stupid. She’s my daughter,” Morgan exclaimed. 

“That you left at the fire station and then took off,” Kris shot back. Marco put his hand on Kris’ in an effort to calm him down. 

“What my client is saying here is that with the track record you have, Ms. Pettigrew, three months is a blessing,” Marco said. “We also have conditions.”

“Conditions? To see her own child?” Morgan’s lawyer said, the annoyance clear in his voice. 

“One, weekly drug and alcohol screening and monthly home visits,” Marco said. “These are not open for negotiation.”

“Fuck you, Kris. I’ve been sober for two years.”

“Then prove it.”

Anna placed her hands on Kris’s shoulders, her peace filling him, reminding him of who was really important. She put a vision of Betsey into his mind, when she was very small and very sick. He held her tiny body against his bare chest, the only way he could keep her warm and comfortable while the illness took its toll on his little girl. Her feeble coughs, wheezing as she tried to take a breath. He held Betsey, rocking and singing to her. Comforting her, somehow knowing that they would be okay.  

“This isn’t about you or me, Morgan,” Kris said after taking a breath, Anna’s peace filling him. “This is about Itty Bitty and her well being.” 

“She should be with her mother. Safe. Not always worrying if her father is going to come home in one piece. Not being raised by strangers,” Morgan said. 

“The mother she’s seen maybe twice in her whole life? Come back when you actually have a case,” Marco said, standing up. “This meeting is over.” Mark gathered up his papers and he and Kris walked out of the office. Once alone in the hallway Marco said, “Well, that went better than I thought it was going to.”

“I almost lost it in there,” Kris said, pulling at his tie. 

“Daddy! Zio Marco!” Betsey exclaimed breaking free of Mrs. Simmons’ hand. She ran as fast as her little legs would carry her and crashed into Kris’ legs. He lifted her happily into his arms and held her tight to him. She wore a green gingham print dress, complete with the puffed sleeves, twirly skirt. Her headband with matching bow held back her long sausage curls that Mrs. Simmons created every single night and touched up every morning with the curling iron. Thank god, cause Kris can bring a heart back to beating but is useless when it came to little girl’s and their hair. He could manage a ponytail or a simple braid. Anything else and he was out. 

Anna stood behind Kris, opened her wings and shielded Betsey from seeing her mother. While she couldn’t blind them from seeing each other she could keep Betsey’s eyes from wandering from her father’s face. 

“Zio Marco,” Betsey said, twisting in her father’s arms to look at her uncle. “Are you and Zio Sven going to come over for dinner?”

“Of course Itty Bitty,” Marco said. “I’m making spaghetti.”

“Sketti and meatballs?” Betsey asked, her eyes going bright. 

“Only the best for our Itty Bitty.”

During dinner while the grown-ups talked amongst themselves, Betsey sat at her tea table, coloring. Kris noticed that among all the Alice in Wonderland drawings was another. Betsey had taken to drawing more than just coloring. In an attempt to foster this new found talent Kristoff kept her in sketchbooks. He was flipping through one after Sven and Marco had left. It was page after page of a girl. A girl with red curls. The girl wore a long dress of blues and pinks and seemed to Kris, to be carrying birds in her hands. 

“Betsey, who is this?” Kris asked, turning the page to his daughter. 

“That’s Anna,” she answered. “She’s an angel. My angel.”

Children were prone to making up characters but there was something about this drawing that left Kris uneasy. That much detail about someone that didn’t exist made him wonder if this Anna was a real person that Betsey had seen somewhere. 

* * *

Anna watched the lover of her soul from the small crystal she carried. While all the angels in her order had crystals for the souls they cared for, Anna was the only who wore hers about her throat like as a necklace. It gave her warmth and comfort when she felt so alone. Anna longed for a life like the ones she witnesses from her resting place in the heavens.

There was one in her order that wasn’t as kind and compassionate towards the souls Hans protected. At times he allowed things to happen so he could be reassigned. It annoyed him to no end that Anna was given the same souls over and over. His pettiness was apparent with everyone. Demoted from Michael’s army, he was biding him time until he could go back. 

“You are treading dangerous ground, Guardian,” he said coming up to Anna as she watched Kris and Betsey in their crystals. 

“And what I do is none of your business,” Anna retorted, tucking her crystal into her neckline. 

“They know about you and what you’ve been doing,” Hans said, taking her elbow. 

“You mean my job? Protecting the souls something you seem to do so poorly.” She jerked away from his touch, what seemed to burn into her skin. 

“I’d consider taking a less haughty tone with me,” Hans said, his voice low and menacing. 

“You have no power over me.”

Not allowing him to have another word she left and floated down to earth, to keep watch over Kris and Betsey as he began another forty-eight hour shift. 

* * *

While Kris loved being a paramedic, he’d rather be back on the engine, fighting the fires. When Morgan got pregnant with Betsey he had been on the truck and was always the first in and last out. He moved to the ambulance and paramedic unit to ease Morgan’s mind and spirit. Anna had felt so relaxed when he changed positions, too.  
  
Fire, she knew, was a fickle beast. It could change its course on a whim, in an instant. Fire had been her foe for ages, and she feared it would take him from her. Or worse, that she would make a mistake and lose him. Other Guardians had lost their charges to the flames, but not her. Not yet. And she would do anything to protect him. Her Kris.  
  
“Daddy’s gotta go, Betsey!” Kris called from the front door.   
  
She careened down the stairs and practically flew into her father’s arms. She hugged him tight around the neck. “Daddy, can Nanny and I come bring you dinner later?”  
  
“I’d be so sad if you didn’t.”  
  
“Be safe Daddy,” Betsey said, kissing his cheek.  
  
“Always, Itty Bitty,” he hugged her. “Say your prayers and mind Nanny while Daddy’s at work,” Kris said, setting her down.   
  
“Awww, can’t I come stay at the firehouse Daddy?”   
  
“Not this time, Itty Bitty. I have a lot of classes and drills I have to run while I’m not out taking care of people. Not the best shift to have you at the firehouse.”  
  
“Ok daddy,” she pouted, then smiled as another idea floated into her head. “Maybe Nanny and I can bring you something tomorrow for snacks instead?”  
  
“That’s very thoughtful of you! I bet the boys would really like some cookies,” Kris said, kissing the top of her head. He looked up at Bulda and gave her a smile. “If you know who tries to come by, call Marco. She’s not allowed here unless I am.”  
  
“Of course,” Mrs. Simmons gave him a solemn smile. “Be safe.”

“Always.”

* * *

Always lasted a whole hour. Kris had barely opened his training manual on field trauma triage when the alarm blared.   
  
 _Truck 87, Engine 87, Ambulance 67, Squad 8. Multi-Structure fire. Second Alarm_  
  
Like a shot they were off. Kris and Sven raced for their rig, not even bothering to have their normal rock-paper-scissors to see who got to drive that time. They followed the firetrucks through the city, lights flashing and sirens wailing.   
  
Anna was so entwined with Kris’s soul that she knew when something was off before it happened. She followed behind the ambulance, guiding cars to stop and get out of the way, willing pedestrians to wait just an extra moment before darting out into the street.   
  
An entire low-income housing building was in flames when they arrived.   
  
“Engine, get those ladders up!” Oaken yelled. “Truck, get those ladders up. Squad start search and rescue.”   
  
Kris and Sven jumped into the fray, applying dressings and helping the other ambulance companies with triage. Off in the distance, Kristoff could hear someone crying. Anna heard it too. She quieted Kris’s mind so he could focus on the sound. He looked up to the building and saw her. A child clung precariously from a window grate fifty feet up. She was a little girl, no bigger than Betsey.  
  
“Chief! We got a kid hanging off the building!” Kris yelled, running for the building.   
  
“Bjorgman! Wait!” Chief Oaken shouted. “Squad, we have a child on the southeast corner, fifth floor.”  
  
“Copy that chief,” someone said over the radio. “It’s getting bad in here. This fire ain’t no accident!”  
  
Oaken swore, then bellowed orders into his comm, redeploying his forces. Kris couldn’t wait for assistance. He had to do something. He ran closer to the building, ignoring Oaken and Sven’s shouts for him to stop. He dropped his bag on the ground and looked for a way, any way, to get to the child.  
  
“Hang on tight! I’m coming for you!” Kris yelled to the little girl. Taking a running leap at the building, he grabbed onto the crumbling building and began to climb. There wasn’t much more Anna could do to help him. She could only hold back the approaching flames for so long before her intervention would seem too miraculous. But she could wash the fatigue from his body. His arms strained to pull his large frame up the side of the building, his boots scratching at the stucco, searching for footing. He could feel the heat of the flames behind the walls getting closer and closer.  
  
“What’s your name?” Kris yelled up to the little girl.   
  
“Penny,” her scared little voice replied.   
  
“Penny, you’re being such a brave girl,” Kris said, working to keep her calm. “I need you to try and pull yourself up and onto the fire escape. Can you do that?”  
  
“I’m scared,” she cried. “I don’t think I can!”  
  
“That’s okay. You just focus on my voice. I’m coming for you,” he yelled over the roar of the flames. “Just keep holding on, Penny. You’re doing great!”  
  
Several stories below, the members of Kris’s fire company were positioning the ladder. “Get it under him, Jones!” Chief Oaken shouted.  
  
“Penny, I’m going to get right under you and you’re going to lower yourself onto my back,” Kris said, looking right at the little girl.   
  
“I can’t. I’ll fall,” she whimpered.   
  
“Penny, I will not let you fall. You hear me. You  _will not_  fall.” Penny stared at him and, with a trembling lip, nodded. He reached up and grabbed a hold of the metal grate surrounding the balcony. It groaned and wobbled in his hand, but it held. Penny stretched out her feet and wrapped her ankles around his chest. She let go of the bar she had been gripping with all her might. As soon as she let go, the bar broke loose and fell to the ground.  
  
Penny screamed. Kris’s arms were screaming too from the extra weight, but he held tight. Failure was not an option. He scanned the building side, gauging if he could swing them both up to the landing above them. But no, it was too far out of reach. And what was left of the metal grate was pulling free from the building.  
  
Anna let go of the flames and focused her attention on the grate. It wasn’t going to hold; she knew that as well as Kris did. The unfettered flames exploded out of the open glass patio door, throwing the grate and its precious cargo into the wind.  
  
Penny screamed as they began to fall. Kris didn’t have time to make a choice. He acted on instinct alone. He twisted in mid-air, turned his back to the ground, pulled the little girl into his arms and hoped his body would shield hers when they landed. He thought of his little Betsey, and he prayed for a miracle.  
  
Anna flared her wings. The wind gust from those mighty wings pushed back the flames, blew away the glass shards, and nudged her falling love right into the ladder and the waiting arms of his fellow fire fighters. Kristoff winced and cursed as he landed. Both he and the little girl were bruised, scorched, but otherwise unharmed.  
  
Sven pulled Penny from Kris’s arms and carried her over to the other paramedics while the EMTs and other firemen swarmed over Kris.  
  
“You are one lucky son of a bitch,” Old Man Gallagher shook his head.  
  
“Just call me Spiderman,” Kris laughed, then winced and rubbed at his bruised ribs.  
  
“Assuming the Chief lets you live, don’t you ever do that again!”  
  
The little girl was going to be ok. She didn’t even need to go to the hospital. Her grandmother, clutching her tight, came over to where the EMTs were working on Kris. She thanked Kristoff from the bottom of her heart, tears of gratitude running down her face. “Thank you, Mister Kris,” Penny patted his hand. Kristoff grinned at the soot-stained little girl. He smiled as he watched the little family walk away from disaster, grateful he got to witness a happy ending and help to make it happen.  
  
Turns out Kris didn’t need a hospital stay either. The EMTs shook their heads, chalking it up to his miracle luck. Once he was patched up and given some pain medicine, Chief Oaken congratulated and thanked him, and sent him back to the Fire House for two weeks of desk duty. “Plenty of time to re-read all the protocols and SOPs you broke,” he said. Kris opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it once he got a look at Oaken’s stern face.  
  
Later that night Kris lay in his bunk, a heat pad and an ice pack strapped to his bruised ribs. He went over the report of the fire. Preliminary findings were inconclusive, but the fire did not start naturally. But Kris was more interested in that porch grate. It was too soon to tell, but he knew there was no way it should have held for as long as it had. It was like there was something holding it up.  
  
Something, or someone.  
  
He closed his eyes and thought of the scene. Something flashed in his mind as he thought it over. A woman. There was a woman with red hair wearing gold. He closed his eyes tighter, trying to see her clearly. She had flowers in her hair, wings on her back, and the most brilliant blue eyes…  
  
He rubbed his own eyes, tired beyond the meaning of the word. Exhaustion and adrenaline were playing tricks on him. That was the only logical explanation. He just needed rest.

“Rest,” Anna whispered into his ear as he drifted off. “Rest and heal, my prince. I will always protect you.”


End file.
